


Time to Build Up

by IncomingAlbatross



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, London 1965!, Post-Serial: s016 The Chase, but domestic and romantic on top of the happy, i'm going for that mood here, the happy wholesome fluff they deserve, you know the montage at the end of the chase?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27889858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IncomingAlbatross/pseuds/IncomingAlbatross
Summary: Ian and Barbara coming home, preparing to take up normal lives again...but preparingtogether.Because that's what they do.(And with a little unexpected help from the Doctor, as it turns out. Because that's whathedoes.)
Relationships: Ian Chesterton/Barbara Wright
Comments: 12
Kudos: 24





	Time to Build Up

“Well,” Ian said, after a lengthy pause.

They stood in his apartment—his apartment which, despite their two-year absence, was much as he had left it. His key had still worked, his things were there, the utilities were on…even the plants were healthy.

“…I _know,_ ” Barbara said.

The explanation lay before them, a single sheet of paper with a scrawled message on it:

_Chesterton,  
_ _I was in the area, so I stopped in and made arrangements about your “disappearance” (and Barbara’s, obviously). Rent’s dealt with, your Coal Hill got your leave of absence notification, and everyone thinks the two of you were tapped to help with an exclusive, hush-hush research expedition to Africa. You’re welcome.  
_ _Sorry I couldn’t see you—would’ve tangled the timelines up. I’m…quite a bit older than I was when you last saw me (yes, I know, doesn’t seem possible, I’ll explain later). It would have been messy._ ~~_Time—_ ~~ _Paradoxical. We’ll meet again at some point, though.  
_ _Your friend,  
_ _the Doctor_

_P.S. He can’t take all the credit. You know how he is with practical details? Rubbish, is what he is. Talks a big game but I had to do half the work.  
_ _Don’t worry, though, he’s got me to look after him. No one’s leaving him unsupervised.  
_ _–one of the Doctor’s other friends_

“…I have to admit,” Ian said, laying a finger on the second set of handwriting, “this helps.” He chuckled, not quite knowing why.

Barbara snorted, smiling herself. “Because he’s not alone, or because someone else helping sounds more likely than the Doctor making these arrangements himself?”

“Both!” he laughed. “If he’d done it alone I’d be even more disoriented than I already am.” Not that the kindness was uncharacteristic of the Doctor, but…the forethought that this must have taken. The _practicality_ … Ian shook his head, smiling fondly. “No, having someone else help seems _much_ more likely.”

“It’s still very odd, though, in a way,” Barbara mused, running her own finger over the page. “To think that he was here, right after we left…” She shook herself. “You’d think I’d be used to time travel by now. But it’s never been quite so… _tangled,_ I suppose. Not for us.”

“I know what you mean,” he agreed, putting an arm around her. “It hasn’t been…within _our_ lives before, has it? Still…” He half-shrugged. It was hard to mind, somehow, even if it was strange.

“It’s nice in a way, don’t you think? To know that he’ll still be out there, and make new friends, and still think of us?” And then he laughed. “Not to mention the actual benefits right now, of course!”

Barbara laughed, leaning into him. “Of course,” she echoed. “It really _was_ very considerate, honestly. And…you’re right.” There was a distant smile on her face. “I am glad to know that. It’s…reassuring, in a way. Not quite knowing the end of the story while you’re in the middle—I should hate that, anyway—but getting a peek ahead. To know some important things will go on.”

“Exactly,” Ian agreed. They stood there together in silence; and for a moment, in his own home and his own time, with Barbara in his arm and a letter from the Doctor on the table, all was right in Ian Chesterton’s world.

Then Barbara stirred, and he let his grasp fall away to a hand on her back as she straightened. “I’d best be getting to my own apartment, honestly,” she said with another smile. “I assume he left another note there—and I _have_ missed my own bed!”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Ian said wryly. “The TARDIS was a marvel, but the sleeping quarters weren’t very twentieth-century, were they?”

“No,” she agreed. “Nor the kitchen facilities…”

“Oh, that reminds me,” he said, moving towards the kitchen. “I’d better see if there’s any food in here, or if the Doctor overlooked that little detail.”

Barbara burst into laughter. “Perhaps there’s some cold peacock!”

He stopped cold to give her a mock glare. “ _Very_ funny.”

There was not, of course, any cold peacock. There wasn’t anything, in fact.

“I suppose he didn’t know our arrival down to the day, then,” Ian mused. “Or perhaps he simply forgot that humans need food.”

“Oh, stop it, Ian,” Barbara scolded. “He was never _that_ bad.”

“He was _occasionally_ that bad,” Ian protested. “I distinctly remember being dragged away from multiple meals because whatever he was thinking about was ‘more important.’” He couldn’t help smiling through the exasperation, though. Somehow one never could, with the Doctor.

He swung the fridge door shut. “Anyway, I’d best do some grocery shopping tonight,” he said. “Would you care to join me, perhaps?” Raising an elegant eyebrow, he offered Barbara his arm.

“Oh,” she said, with mock consideration, “I _suppose_ I can clear my busy schedule. I have so many commitments just now, of course…”

He nodded solemnly as she slipped her arm into his. “Of course.” Then he sighed. “I must admit, I’m _not_ looking forward to the demands of a regular schedule again. Having to keep appointments? Having to _make_ appointments?” He grimaced. “Not one of the benefits of being home, I’m afraid. At least in the TARDIS, we might not have been in our own time, but it wasn’t anyone else’s either!”

“Free Time?” Barbara mused. “That describes the Doctor’s life pretty well, doesn’t it?”

“It does.” He looked down at her, smiling. “Ah well. I suppose we’ll have to accept that our time is not _only_ our own. We’ll bear up somehow.”

She laughed, soft and clear as always. “Somehow,” she agreed.

They spent a good portion of the evening grocery shopping, arguing with each other’s tastes and buying, in the end, more than either of them needed, just for the fun of being _able_ to buy twentieth-century staples once again.

By the time they’d finished, darkness had fallen—it was November in London, after all—and they made their way to Barbara’s apartment.

“Can I help you with anything?” Ian asked as she pulled out her key. (It was a marvel, even to him, that they’d managed to keep their “personal effects” together through all their time in the TARDIS, but they'd agreed early that it was important to plan ahead.) “Or should I shove off, let you get settled in?”

She looked up from the doorknob to smile at him. “Thank you, Ian,” she said gratefully. “I am exhausted, I’m afraid—”

“ _What?_ ” he interrupted, raising his eyebrows. “Why ever would that be? It’s not as if you’d done anything strenuous since…oh, whenever it was we last slept…”

Barbara shook her head, rolling her eyes at him with a look of fond exasperation. “As I was _saying,_ I’m exhausted, and you are too. I’m just going to put these things away, get settled in, and _sleep._ ”

He laughed. “All right. Now that you mention it, that does sound like an awfully good plan… I’ll just stay until you’ve made certain things’re all right here.”

“I appreciate it. Shan’t be a moment!” And then the door was open and she tried the nearest light switch—working, like Ian’s—and slipped inside, leaving the door ajar.

Ian leaned against the wall as he waited. He knew London was relatively safe, and the Doctor seemed to have taken care of everything, but…well. It was instinct by now, really. To make sure he _knew_ where Barbara was, and that she was safe.

“All clear,” said a familiar voice at his shoulder, and he started upright to see Barbara watching him with an amused smile.

“More tired than you thought?” she asked sympathetically.

“I suppose so,” he said, smiling back down at her. _Apparently I still don’t_ always _know where she is._ “I’m all right, though—fit to drive and everything. You know how it is—I can keep a clear head for a while longer.”

She laughed a little. “I do know.” And her gaze turned distant. “Won’t it be odd, Ian, to not _have_ to push ourselves like that? To not be plunged into war, or slavery, or some sort of quest…” She trailed off. “I wonder how long it will take for us to feel things are _routine_ again.”

“I wonder,” he said thoughtfully. “Still, though…we always had a few constants, even then. The TARDIS routine, such as it was. The Doctor, Susan—and Vicki. Ourselves.”

Barbara smiled up at him, the clouds clearing from her eyes. “We did,” she agreed. Then, still smiling, she gave a sigh. “Well. I suppose I had better get started on the groceries—and you’ve got to get yourself home, as well!” She poked him in the chest with a look of mock sternness. “You take care of yourself, all right, Ian? I’ll call you in the morning, and I expect you to have eaten and rested.”

He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. “Understood,” he said, grinning. “So…good night, then?”

Her eyes softened. “Yes, I suppose so. Good night, Ian.” And she turned away, hand on the half-open door, about to go in.

It was silly—they’d been separated before by far more than a few miles of London streets, and she’d already said she was going to call him tomorrow—but suddenly Ian felt as though they were the edge of something terrible. It felt like…a parting.

Which is possibly why he found himself blurting out, “Marry me.”

* * *

Barbara froze. Her hand was on the interior handle of her door, legs ready to step across the threshold. She’d been about to go inside, make her apartment fully her own again, and indulge in the sensible, prosaic joys of home and food and bed. But _this…_

Suddenly, her heart was pounding. But there was also a beaming smile spreading over her face, which she could only control with the _greatest_ difficulty.

Deliberately, she turned to look at him. Even in the dim light left to them, Ian looked at least as shocked as she felt. She could see he was about to say something—probably an apology, if she knew him, or an attempt to pull back for fear of having pushed too far.

“Well,” she said slowly, leaning back against the doorway. “I suppose that depends.”

And then she raised her head to meet his eyes. “Do you mean _right_ now?” she asked, letting her smile fill her face and voice. “Or would you be willing to wait for a few months? Because I would like my parents to know you first, ideally. And be at the wedding.”

Ian froze, now, gaping, and for a split-second she wondered if he _had_ wanted to take it back, not for her sake, but for his own. But then he blinked, and slowly broke into a smile.

“I suppose I can wait a _few_ months,” he allowed, voice soft despite the teasing. “Barbara…” He hesitated. “Is that a yes?”

Barbara found herself stepping towards him before even thinking. “ _Ian,_ ” she said, holding out her hands to him. “Of course it’s a yes!”

He latched onto her and pulled her into a tight embrace, which she fell into willingly. As she always had.

_This_ , she thought, arms wrapped around Ian, smiling into his shoulder. This _is home._

“I’m sorry,” she heard him say, but now with a laugh in his voice. She pulled away to be face-to-face once more, and found him grinning ruefully at her. “I planned…well, I planned to prepare a little more than _this._ ”

Barbara felt her eyes light up a little more at this. “…You _planned?_ ” she echoed delightedly.

“Of course!” he said, looking startled. “I don’t quite remember when I started, but…” he smiled lopsidedly, glancing away. “Yes, I had plans. Nothing concrete, but…the objective was pretty well established.”

She laughed. “Well, you achieved that!”

But then Barbara found herself sobering a little. He must have seen the change in her face, because he raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.

She smiled back at him in acknowledgement. “Why ask now, then?” she asked softly. “I mean, I’m very _glad_ that you did, but…if you were planning to do it later…”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, with a laughing grimace at himself. But the laugh softened after a moment, and he said slowly “…Well, I suppose I do.”

She waited.

“I just…” He huffed a little, with a smile and a shrug. “I know things are going to be different now, Barbara. It’s time for us to _build_ our lives instead of just drifting through them. We’ve got to settle down, get into the work of routines and commitments and a whole different kind of struggle—a long-term one. It’s going to be a new kind of adventure for us, and I just…” He glanced at her doorway and then back to her. “Things are changing, and I didn’t want to be separated from you—even for the night—without trying to make sure you’d be with me on this adventure, too.”

She bit her lip, smiling at him through suddenly-blurred eyes. “Ian?” she said softly.

“Mm?” His eyes were the same as they had always been—full of the same steady, strong, warm affection. That look that was always there, quietly, but ready to shine like a lighthouse for her whenever they made eye contact.

She reached up, resting a hand on his cheek. “With you is the _only_ way I want to go through this adventure,” she said, soft but certain. “Like all the others. I want us to build something _together._ Always.”

And then the light in his eyes kindled up into something brighter and warmer and stronger than it had ever been before—something tender, and joyous, and almost incredulous.

And then he bent towards her, and she leaned into him, and they kissed each other.

“…Well,” she said a few moments later, leaning against his chest. “Now we really do need to say good night, I think.”

He sighed, but pulled away. “I’ll see you in the morning?” he asked, looking into her eyes with that light still shining in his.

“Yes,” she agreed, with a glowing smile of her own. “We’ll go forward. Together.”

He grinned at her, and she stepped away, towards the apartment that seemed somehow less intimidating than it had ten minutes ago.

“…Love you, Ian,” she said over her shoulder as she went in.

And after a moment’s pause, just as she was shutting the door, she heard “Love you too, Barbara” in that familiar voice.

She dropped her back against the wall as soon as the door was latched, staring into space, knowing that smile was still on her face. Tonight she had sensible, prosaic things to do, on her own, to regain her footing in this world of theirs. But then tomorrow would come…

“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,” she said to herself. “ _With Ian._ ”

It truly was _their_ future they were stepping into, now. And it was, she thought, the brightest she’d ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> I suspect Ian actually has an engagement ring (bought on an alien planet when they actually got a chance to sightsee), he just forgot about it until after he'd gotten home for the night. Because they're both dorks.


End file.
